


Real Life

by Buttscuzyolo



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avengers get a truth bomb, Drama, Gen, One Shot, Real Life, Real life ain't all that great, Short, harsh reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:28:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8746978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttscuzyolo/pseuds/Buttscuzyolo
Summary: Real Life ain't so glamorous after all. Being a mutant has a lot of down, and not a lot of ups. But I guess super heros don't understand this as well as they should.
A mutant with a not great life interacts with the Avengers minus Thor and gives them a bit of a truth dose of the harsh reality or being a mutant.





	

The blunt force of my forehead slamming into the cool tile covered in a thin layer of mist sent sharp shockwaves of simple pain rocketing through my head. My fingers tried fruitlessly to grasp at the hard shower wall as I clenched my teeth as hard as I could in fear that opening my mouth would unleash the scream I could feel building up inside my lungs. I felt my knees being to weaken and buckle under the pain bubbling up inside of my mind. It only takes a few seconds for my knees to give out and slam hard against the cracking dirty white shower tiles and cause a groan of pain to sound from my throat. I begin to find myself twisting my hands into my short unnatural magenta hair and giving short but hard tugs as I desperately tried to distract and take away from the madness I could feel becoming physical pain in my head. Information forced its way into my mind with little care for the destruction it left in its path. Hot tears finally began falling from my plain brown eyes, only to be quickly swept away by the hot, careless spray of the shower. I took heavy and desperate gasp for air through my nose as time seemed to stretch from its original minute to an hour.

 

Eventually the flow of far too much information stopped, just as suddenly as it has started, and it felt like I could breath again. The first few breaths were slow and shallow, but quickly turned into deep and heavy sobs as I tried to make sense of my shattered mind. A soft thud sounded as I laid my head against the shower wall, softly for the first time since I had stepped into the shower. 

 

That wasn’t the first time that had happen, but it was one of the bad floods I had been forced to embrace. My mind wasn’t ready for all the information suddenly dumped onto me, but the knowledge was mine now. It placed itself as if I had always known it, like it had been there for months if not years, but I knew better. After the first couple of times I could tell the difference in original thoughts and planted ones. Knowing that didn’t do me much good, but it’s the small comforts that make life bearable. I wrapped my shaking arms around my knees and began to sort through the new ideas and facts in my mind. As per the usual it seemed to be some flash of the future. Some situation I would be involved with soon enough. Some situation that would hurt me in some way, physically or emotionally. It took either a minute or an hour for my sobs to even out and slowly stop. 

 

It was times like these that I could freely admit that I hated myself. That no matter what I tried I would never be normal, or even just happy. If being a mutant wasn’t bad enough, I also had to deal with the painful violation of my head any time my fucked up mutation decided to intervene with my life. They were hardly even important. Usually ends up with getting insulted or bumping into something and getting a bad bruise. Those times the information dump hurts less, since there is less for my mind to process. The more painful broken bones and full out arguments hurt more. The worst part was that i could never change the pain I got. Small things could change, how I respond or what I hit, but the outcome is always the same. I end up in pain. 

 

This flash was only moderately long. Apparently the more violent action movies weren’t exaggerating about getting mugged in alleys. I run my hands over my face applying enough pressure to take my mind off of what was either my walk to work or home tomorrow. I should make sure my first aid kit is still stocked enough to deal with the injures afterwards. The shower water was getting cold anyway.

 

The walk to work was one I had taken for almost 5 years. I left at about 6 pm, same as always, and got out onto the cold streets of New York. It’s always dark while I walk, but the city never truly sleeps after all. I didn’t bother changing my path, I would end up getting mugged no matter what. I couldn’t help my paranoia though. In the end it didn’t matter how many times I glanced over my shoulder or how often I flinched at random sounds. My vision was right, I got mugged.

 

“Arhg!” I shout out through clenched teeth as the heavy fist collides with my week stomach and forces my back harshly into the dirty brick wall behind me. My legs fail me and I fall heavy to the ground, first landing on my ass then ending up on my side. I could feel the masked fuckers hands go through my pockets quickly as I tried to catch my breath and gave weak kicks in retaliation, not that it did anything but hurt me more when he gives me a dead leg for my efforts. My head hits the cold ground as the pain wrecks through my body. Eventually he gets my wallet from my front pocket and quickly gets up and begins to run off from the alley.  
I take shallow breaths until I can force deeper ones. My stomach feels a dull throbbing pain that gets worse everytime I breath too deep. My back aches as a big bruise begins to form on where I hit the wall. My left leg gets sharp flashes of pain radiating from my thigh as it slowly regains feeling. Eventually I can sit up, scraping my hands against sharp rocks and broken glass left in the back alley from who the fuck knows until I’m finally vertical again.  
I tilt my head back and look through my thankfully not broken but very scratched up old, red, rectangular glasses up at the few stars I can see through the smog and lights of New York. I can feel blood slowly start to make its way out of my nose and down my face along my tears. I fucking hate myself. 

 

I got to the building halfway through my shift, still covered in dirt and smeared blood I was careful not to get on my clothes. I pushed through the late working business men and women who clearly doubted if I should be there and into the lobby. After walking through the dark the shining lights felt like a bit much and I had to squint my eyes against the glare. 

 

“Hi welcome to Stark tow- Jesus Christ Ellie!” The receptionist shouts out after recognizing me then registering my bruised face. “What did you do?!” She shouts at me as she stands and comes around the sleek desk to stand in front of me in the middle of the lobby. I huff out a small snort.

 

“I get mugged and it’s somehow still my fault?” I mutter out in a low mocking tone at Alice.

 

“That is not what I mean and you know it you fuc- you got mugged?” Alice asked incredulously as she began pushing me towards the back side of her desk and away from the wary people in the lobby.

 

“Well he did take my money.” I said with a small smile as I let her push me into her soft desk chair as she started rummaging through the underside for the mandatory first aid kit. As she finally finds it she shoots me a vaguely amused face and rolls her eyes. 

 

“And here I thought you were late for work ‘cause you slept in.” Alice snaps open the kit and starts to sort through the various medical items as she snarks right back.

 

“As if I would ever voluntarily miss a second of my dream job of mopping floors and throwing away trash.” I respond with a fake swoon. Alice softly swats my knee with a smirk.

 

“You love trash though, what with it matching your personality and all.” I press a hand to my chest with an exaggerated insulted face.

 

“Why I never.”

 

“Shut up you ass.” She says as she finds the rubbing alcohol and gauze. Her green eyes look up at me. “Now show the doctor where it hurts sweetie.” I give her a small but honest smile.  
“It’s mostly bruises. Only my hands and face are actually bleeding.” I say softly. A matching smile blooms on Alice’s face.

 

“Then give me those hands ‘cause I’m about to clean the shit out of ‘em.” I show her me hands with a ever growing grin just as a voice booms out over the lobby.

 

“If you could actually not be such an old man for like two seconds it would be fucking awesome, just saying.” I turn my head up as a large group comes out of the elevator.

 

“Tony, just because I want to go to a nice quiet dinner does not make me an old man.” A very buff looking blond man says to the rather loud brown haired man.

 

“Yeah, it just means he wants to eat shit food when we could be eating like royalty.”

 

“Clint!”

 

“Sorry Cap, it’s true.”

 

“I still think italian is the better choice.” A red hair, sleek looking woman adds as the group starts to pass through the lobby, gathering many looks at their loud voices and large group as they go.

 

“See! Everyone agrees with me!” The blond man gives a good natured sigh and rolls his eyes playfully when he spots me out of the corner of his eye. He immediately looks concerned, which I guess is fair considering the blood currently running down my face. 

 

“Oh god are you okay?” He says after stopping just in front of Alice’s desk with a very disapproving dad face. Alice pokes her head up in confusion at the comment and immediately looks very pale as the rest of the group stops and turns towards us. I realize why when I recognize Tony Stark, both of our boss and owner of the entire tower.

 

“Uhh. Yeah? Yes! I’m, uh, cleaning the cuts now! Yeah.” No one at all looks comforted by the statement, question, whatever the hell Alice just spit out and I certainly wasn’t helping by quietly laughing at her as she spoke. She turns to me and gives me death eyes, only making me want to laugh harder.

 

“Wait why is my receptionist doing first aid to an injured kid in my lobby?” Mr.Stark ask loudly. The blond man crosses his arms as he silently seconds the question. Alice looks even more freaked out and looks up at me with eyes the size of dinner plates. I want to take pity on her and answer but honestly I don’t know what answer would be the best.

 

“Uh, I got mugged?” Definitely not that one. “Sorry Mr.Stark.” I can feel heat rising to my cheeks and can tell I’m blushing hard.

 

“Here, let me take a look at that.” A quiet voice from the back says as a fluffy brown haired man in glasses steps around the desk and takes a knee near Alice, who quickly stands up looking as awkward as I probably do. 

 

“Brucie is a doctor, isn’t he just amazing.” Mr.Stark fake swoons and fans himself as he snickers to himself.

 

“Not that kind of doctor, Tony.” He says fondly as he looks at my hands. 

 

“Close enough. Wait weren’t we getting food?” Mr.Stark responds.

 

“Tony, there is an injured kid bleeding in your lobby. Show a little compassion.” The blond man says in a way that makes even me feel bad. Mr.Stark sighs in an exaggerated way before hopping onto the counter and holding his head in his hands. 

 

“Fine, fine.” The blond man come around the counter the same way the doctor did and looked down at me concerned. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Alice backing away slowly and the rest of the group, two other people, come to rest at the counter near Mr.Stark. 

 

“I’m Steve Rogers, what exactly happened?” 

 

“Um. Mugged.” He looks vaguely amused and the dirty blond haired man snorted.

 

“A little more specific please.”

 

“I got mugged walking through an alley on my way to work.” 

 

“Wait where do you work, aren’t you like fifteen?” Mr.Stark ask.

 

“I’m eighteen, and I work here.” I answer honestly.

 

“What? Doing what?” He ask incredulously. 

 

“I’m a janitor. I mop.” No one looks terribly impressed by my statement. I hiss out in pain and turn back to the doctor and my hands as I feel rubbing alcohol pressed into my cuts.

 

“Sorry, need to clean your wounds.” I nod understandingly but with a grimace as the doctor continues cleaning. 

 

“I didn’t even know we had janitors.” Mr.Stark says with widened eyes. Steve looks at him amused, albeit a little frustrated. 

 

“Please continue explaining what happened, in detail please.”

 

I told them everything as clearly as I could remember it, which wasn’t that great considering I had a rather shit memory. At some point the rest of them introduced themselves asked more questions, but the whole thing was boring sort of blur in which I went on auto pilot answering questions. Yeah he did in fact punch me, amazing right? 

 

“Would you mind coming back to my lab to see the extent of your bruising?” Dr.Banner asked politely. Still in the auto pilot I answered without thinking.

 

“Yeah sure.”

 

“Great! Come on then.” He stood up and waited for me to stand as I realized what I had done.

 

“Wait, no I’m sure I’m fine Dr.Banner.”

 

“Well let's go make sure shall we?” He gives me a determined look as I quickly gave in and stood to follow him, slightly grimacing at the lingering pain in my leg. I gave Alice a wave goodbye as she stood there rather disbelieving at the whole exchange. The rest of the group followed us to the elevator, with a rather grumbling Mr.Stark and Mr.Barton.

 

“I’m hungry though!” Mr.Barton whined until Ms.Romanoff gave him a sharp look and quickly silenced him. 

 

The ride up to Dr.Banner’s lab was silent and awkward.

 

I sat on a cold, metal examination table as I let Dr.Banner do whatever it was he was doing. Follow the flashlight, make me kick my knee, press into my bruises to gauge the damage. He did a lot really. I just sat there and kicked my legs and he and Mr.Stark began to go through my results.

 

“Jarvis, find the mystery kid would you?” Mr.Stark says loudly as he and Dr.Banner went over blood pressure.

 

“Certainly, Sir.” I looked up at the ceiling in surprise, before assuming Mr.Stark had one of those voice activated services or something. That was until all my medical and family history popped to life in front of him on a hologram thing. 

 

“Uh, I think that stuff is private?” I tried, panicking a little as small evidence of my mutation began to scroll across Mr.Stark’s screen. 

 

“Nothing is private any more Ellie.”

 

“I’m ninety percent sure medical history is.” I shot back as I began to hop down from the table, only to be stopped by Mr.Rogers.

 

“Please wait until they finish, I don’t want you to get leave still hurt.” He looked so honestly concerned it was actually amazing. I looked around the room trying to decide the best course of action before-

 

“Oh look Ellie’s a mutant how cool is that!” Mr.Stark exclaimed loudly. I cringed and sighed a little at his tactlessness. “What do you do? All it has is that you test positive for the X gene. Is it cool? Is it flashy? Cause everyone knows the coolest powers are flashy come on now like rea-”

 

“Tony!” Mr.Rogers yelled out to him when he started ranting. Mr.Stark looked back to see me cringing into myself, blushing, and honestly a lot closer to tears than I wanted to be. 

 

“Sorry! Oh god what did I do! Was it the flashy thing? Cause it’s totally not whatever I said ‘cause that’s rude I think.”

 

“It’s fine.” I mutter quietly. “It’s nothin’ cool anyway.’

 

“Really?” Mr.Stark cocks his head. “‘Cause any mutation is cool I’m pretty sure, can you show me!” He looks like a kid in a candy store and I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Mr.Rogers looked ready to defend me again, but I was talking before he had to anyway.

 

“It’s not really something I can make happen. And I assure you it’s really not cool.” Curiosity filled Mr.Stark’s eyes, along with Dr.Banner who was being a lot more polite about it.  
“What do you do then?” It was silent for a moment. “Come on kid, we’re the Avengers! No one better to trust a secret with then us!” I then realized why a lot of the people looked familiar. Damn I felt really stupid.

 

“I get flashes of the future, I guess.” I mutter lowly. “Whenever I’m gonna get hurt and stuff.” A beat of silence stretched on before Mr.Stark began excitedly ranting again.

 

“Wow really! That’s awesome! What kind of pain happens? Does it ever change? How soon before the event do you get the flash? How long do they last? Can you feel what happens during the event? How does your mind even deal with the sudden intrusion of new knowledge? This is awesome!” His brown eyes sparkled in excitement.

 

“It’s really not that great.” I say in response.

 

“Of course it is! How could this be a bad thing!”

 

“The pain, for one.” Awkward silence fills the lab as everyone registers what I said.

 

“What pain?” Mr.Stark ask sincerely.

 

“My mind doesn’t really deal with all the new information all that great, and yeah I feel the future pain at the time of the flash. So it ends up hurting a lot more than helping.” I pick at the bandages wrapped around my hands for a second before deciding fuck it and standing up to leave. “Not everyone gets to save the world with super flashy powers.” While they all stand there in a stunned silence I get back to the elevator and push the down button. I couldn’t help but feel bad for dropping such a harsh reality on them, but being the people that constantly save the fucking day I felt like they could use the dose of reality. I guess being a super hero must make life seem a lot shiner and nicer.

 

“Sorry, kid.” Mr.Stark recovers his voice first. He sounds more honest than he had the entire time I was with him before. The rest of them turn to watch me as I step into the elevator and turn back towards them, pushing the lobby button as I go.

 

“Not your fault every second of my life is spent in shame and pain because of my so called super power, that’s just the mutation’s.” I sigh and let the doors start to close, until I stick my arm in to stop it at the last second. “Real life for a mutant isn’t quite as shiny and glamorous as it seems. Trust me.” The doors close on my depressed but accepting face just as tears start to glide down. I fucking hate myself.

**Author's Note:**

> Had a little plot bunny. Personally I like the Avengers really dark and living in the harsh reality kind of deal, but I figured I could make a little truth bomb yo reality sucks kinda thing anyway.  
> Thanks for the love


End file.
